


Lessons in Sharing (Taken Entirely Too Literally)

by jdphoenix



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Crack, F/M, Flash Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-06
Updated: 2014-09-06
Packaged: 2018-02-16 09:52:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2265267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdphoenix/pseuds/jdphoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skye and Fitz are at war.</p>
<p>Or, that one time the SHIELD agents met the Avengers and there weren't enough superheroes to go around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lessons in Sharing (Taken Entirely Too Literally)

**Author's Note:**

> Total randomness. You have been forewarned.
> 
> Also I ignore all that unhappiness from Thor 2.

When the Avengers find out Coulson is alive it’s … awkward. To say the least.

Tony Stark seems to take it as a personal insult that he wasn’t let in on the secret and for a minute it looks like the others are gonna follow his lead. But then Thor - whose arms are somehow even _more_ amazing in real life 3D - pushes Stark aside so he can wrap Coulson up in a bone crushing hug. Seriously. Skye hasn’t checked with Jemma yet, but she’s pretty sure she heard some ribs cracking.

After that it was all pats on the back and introductions and Thor insisting they just _have_ to go to Asgard because there’s some ancient Asgardian custom for when a fallen warrior is discovered to be alive. Translation: frat party but with viking helmets instead of togas.

You’d think, what with them being legendary heroes who _saved the world_ , there’d be some weirdness but everyone just sort of meshes. (The copious amounts of alcohol might help.) Trip and Coulson fangirl over Captain Freaking America. May is apparently BFFs with the Black Widow. Jemma may or may not have a crush on the scruffy scientist but it might just be a science-crush because she’s also pretty over the moon about Thor’s girlfriend.

Skye and Fitz are at war.

There is only one genius engineer/programmer and neither of them are up for sharing.

Stark can’t go five minutes without laughing over it. Pepper Potts - _the_ Pepper Potts and Skye might have a crush of her own there - just rolls her eyes and breezes off to the other end of the massive banquet hall to talk about ruling the world with Thor’s mom. Stark watches her go, or more precisely he watches her ass go while still explaining to Skye just how he hacked SHIELD and drawing a diagram of the Iron Man armor’s basic gauntlet mechanics for Fitz.

They should be thankful he’s clever enough to satisfy them both at once. That’s what Coulson tells them when he’s finally forced to take them aside like toddlers who started a food fight at Thanksgiving dinner. (This spur of the moment disciplinary hearing _might_ be the result of a very childish game of tug-of-war between Skye and Fitz with an Avenger playing the part of the rope.

It is totally the result of tug-of-war.) DC immediately realizes what he said and face palms but it doesn’t stop Stark from overhearing and making a dirty comment.

They are forbidden - _forbidden_ \- from talking to him again until they work out their differences (Stark mopes just as much as they do over that) and get sent outside to do it. The only plus is, there’s still plenty of that heady Asgardian booze outside.

That’s the last thing Skye remembers: going outside and grabbing a fresh flagon. She has no idea when she went to bed or even where her bed _is_. It’s definitely still Asgard though; there’s no way there are beds this comfy on Earth. She stretches out on her belly, her hands sliding under the plush pillows and her toes reaching for the end of the bed. She doesn’t even come close to it. _Definitely_ an Asgardian bed.

The only downside to Asgard is there’s apparently no aspirin because she can tell she didn’t take any last night. There’s a slight ache forming behind her eyes and her body has that thin, dehydrated feeling all over. She could get up, try to find Jemma, and hit her up for some pain meds, but that just seems like a monumental effort when there’s this nice, comfy bed to sleep in. Instead she rolls over and brings her hand over her face to dull the shock of sunlight hitting her eyelids. In its place, she gets the very different shock of something cool and hard touching her eyebrow. There’s a sinking feeling in her gut, one that tells her she’s seen this movie, and she pries her eyes open ever so slightly to see if she’s right.

She’s naked between the heavenly sheets. One-hundred percent naked as the day she was born. Except, it seems, for the band of metal encasing the third finger of her left hand.

“ _Hell_ ,” she mutters and drags herself to a sitting position, hangover be damned.

She dares a glance towards her companion in bed and (she really hopes not) matrimony. She spares a fleeting thought that she might be lucky. It could be that really cute, flirty friend of Thor’s whose arms are slightly less impressive but still very dreamy.

It’s not him. Or any Asgardian.

“Fitz,” she says because who else would it be? “ _Fitz_ ,” she says again, this time poking him.

He tries to swat her away - and there’s the flash of gold on his finger, confirming her fears - but he’s too out of it. His hand lands on her boob. It takes him two seconds to realize something’s amiss. He presses, the gentle, exploratory touch of a very hungover scientist trying to work something out. Her nipple’s a little sore and she wishes, in some dark recess of her mind that will _never_ see the light of day, that she could remember what exactly they did to accomplish that. He actually squeezes and there’s a faint answering tightness between her legs. She’s a little sore down there too.

“Fitz.”

He finally opens his eyes. In spite of the situation, she can’t help but laugh a little at just how wide his eyes get. It shouldn’t be humanly possible. He looks like a monkey. Even more like one when he flails and rolls right off the edge of the bed.

“ _What_ are you doing in my bed?” he demands from the floor. He’s as naked as she is but his important bits are covered by the sheet corner he took with him when he fell. His head is firmly in his hands and he’s closing his eyes so tight she can see tension lines along the side of his face.

“I think the word you’re looking for,” she says, sounding much more cocky about this whole thing than she feels, “is _our_.”

It takes him an embarrassingly long time for a guy with as many degrees as he has, but eventually he dares to look at her. She’s holding her hand out and he can’t miss the ring. He looks from hers to his and back again half a dozen times. His sputtering is actually kind of cute.

There’s a light thump from the balcony and then a voice saying, “Well well well.”

Fitz clutches his sheet closer to his assets and Skye quickly reaches around for a pillow to cover herself with. Hawkeye just landed on their balcony. He bites into what looks like a normal Earth pear.

“Looks like the newlyweds finally decided to wake up. Long night?”

Skye really wishes she could believably threaten him.

He saunters through their room, headed for the door. “Congrats, by the way. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

Nearly a minute after the door closes behind him, Fitz turns to her.

“Do you think Coulson knows?”


End file.
